Furyborn (Empirium 1)

But the cage did not continue its collapse.

Instead, it lifted itself into the air, the metal groaning. Rielle grabbed the child, watched the cage’s shifting base for an opening, then jumped through it to the ground. She and the child fell hard; the child screamed, clutching his foot. Above them hovered the cage, slowly spinning.

Then it rearranged itself, the metal maze breaking apart, re-forming, sharpening…

A storm of blades, ten thousand strong, turned as one and raced toward the lonely spot in the dirt where Rielle and the child crouched.

Rielle stared, panic drumming its way up her throat. Time slowed and quickened, both at once. She could faintly hear Corien shouting at her to do something, to defend herself, to move.

But thousands of swords? That was too many. Manipulating a few pieces of the maze was one thing. But this—they darkened the sky. They whistled and roared. They would cut her to pieces—and the child too.

The child grasped her wrist. “May the Queen’s light guide us home,” he whispered to her, the smile on his face not one of resignation, but of belief.

The Sun Queen’s prayer. The Sun Queen’s light.

Her light.

Her power.

Yes, Corien whispered. Yes, Rielle.

Rielle pulled the child close, then turned to the swords, closed her eyes, and flung up her arms.

No.

She refused this fate.

No.

She had trials to complete, friends waiting for her, the mystery of a foreign princess’s murder to solve.

No.

She had words of love still to speak.

And a voice in her head.

And a hunger, a craving, to answer the awakening call of her blood.

No.

Not yet.

She waited in silence, her body trembling. Power stretched out from her fingers, from the sharp turns of her shoulders, from the ends of her hair.

Had it been enough?

She drew a few shallow breaths in the ringing silence, then dared to open her eyes.

A blade hovered before her face. Two more, pointing at each of her eyes. Hundreds. Thousands, all held in place by her silent command. They filled the pit, quivering, denied their kill. The air hummed metallic.

Rielle let out an incredulous, tearful breath.

Then she let her arms fall.

The swords dropped flat to the ground, forming a perfect circle around the spot of earth where Rielle knelt with the child. Their fall shook the ground. Their blades pointed away from her; she sat at the center of a scorched metal sun.

Slowly, the world returned to her. She blinked, wiped her eyes clean. A growing surge of voices made her look up.

The people of Celdaria were on their feet. They were screaming her name—a chant, a prayer.

Rielle! Rielle! Rielle!

She raised her face to the sky and showed them her smile.

24

Eliana

“Something is wrong with Lord Arkelion. He took me into his bed, ordered me to hurt him as he lay naked before me. I did so happily, but his wounds closed almost at once. He roared and writhed and wept. He is ill, perhaps mad. I believe all the Emperor’s men to be mad. Every single one.”

—Encoded message written by Princess Navana Amaruk of Astavar, delivered to the Red Crown underground

Eliana scrambled upright, gasping, her clothes clinging to her sweat-drenched skin. She had been lying facedown on a mud-crusted blanket. Her hands slipped as she struggled to push herself to a sitting position.

“Remy.” She looked wildly about, saw only a black forest lit by a wedge of moon. “Remy!”

“Hush.” A gentle hand smoothed the hair back from her forehead. “He’s safe, and so are you.”

Eliana recognized the voice. “Navi?”

The girl smiled down at her, her gaze worried but kind. “I’m here. You’re all right.”

Dark clouds shifted meanly across Eliana’s vision. She gripped Navi’s hand. “Tell me.”

“We’re three days’ ride from Rinthos. You’ve been drifting in and out for hours. A fever, Simon thinks. Him, Remy, you, and me—we’re all alive and safe. Hob is with us as well.”

“Hob.” Memories of the Empire outpost came rushing back to her: Smoke drifting up from the ground. Running toward the waiting lines of adatrox, two whining bombardiers in her hands.

Only then did Eliana register the searing pain on her back. She winced, and Navi hissed in sympathy.

“Simon and I did the best we could,” Navi said, “but the blast caught the entire back of your body. Please, lie down on your stomach.”

Eliana obeyed, her vision tilting. The wounds must indeed have been terrible. She’d never suffered from such severe pain hours after an injury.

“The compound,” she bit out. “Did they survive? Patrik and…?” She could not make herself say Linnet’s name.

Navi sat beside her. “I believe most of the refugees got away, yes. Patrik stayed to help evacuate them to a new site. Hob has come with us to meet a contact in Rinthos who can help with supplies for the survivors. The smoke ruined much of their food. But, Eliana, you saved them. What adatrox you didn’t destroy, Simon picked off easily. What you did… I’ve never seen anything like that.”

Eliana lay very still, her cheek pressed to the blanket. Her vision was beginning to settle in the darkness. Remy lay nearby, curled up at the base of a tree. Even as he slept, his brow creased with worry. Beside him sat Simon, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed. In sleep, he looked almost peaceful. The silver ribbons of his scars shivered like ghosts in the shifting moonlight.

Then Eliana heard footsteps in the woods and tensed.

“It’s only Hob,” Navi whispered. “He’s on watch. Please, try to rest.”

“That’s unlikely. Where are my knives?” Then she remembered Lord Morbrae confiscating them and groaned. “They’re gone, aren’t they?”

“Actually, Simon retrieved them from the outpost. Now Remy has them. He won’t let any of us touch them.”

Eliana let out a tired, relieved laugh. “And now…we go to Rinthos.”

“Yes. There, we’ll be able to find better medicine for your back than what Hob helped us scrape together.” She paused. “I’m sorry to say I think you’ll be scarred permanently from it. But you will live.”

Eliana closed her eyes. Exhausted tears slid down her cheeks.

“Oh, Eliana.” Navi cupped her face with one soft hand. “How can I help you? I feel useless.” he cage did not continue its collapse.

Instead, it lifted itself into the air, the metal groaning. Rielle grabbed the child, watched the cage’s shifting base for an opening, then jumped through it to the ground. She and the child fell hard; the child screamed, clutching his foot. Above them hovered the cage, slowly spinning.

Then it rearranged itself, the metal maze breaking apart, re-forming, sharpening…

A storm of blades, ten thousand strong, turned as one and raced toward the lonely spot in the dirt where Rielle and the child crouched.

Rielle stared, panic drumming its way up her throat. Time slowed and quickened, both at once. She could faintly hear Corien shouting at her to do something, to defend herself, to move.

But thousands of swords? That was too many. Manipulating a few pieces of the maze was one thing. But this—they darkened the sky. They whistled and roared. They would cut her to pieces—and the child too.

The child grasped her wrist. “May the Queen’s light guide us home,” he whispered to her, the smile on his face not one of resignation, but of belief.

The Sun Queen’s prayer. The Sun Queen’s light.

Her light.

Her power.

Yes, Corien whispered. Yes, Rielle.

Rielle pulled the child close, then turned to the swords, closed her eyes, and flung up her arms.

No.

She refused this fate.

No.

She had trials to complete, friends waiting for her, the mystery of a foreign princess’s murder to solve.

No.

She had words of love still to speak.

And a voice in her head.

And a hunger, a craving, to answer the awakening call of her blood.

No.

Not yet.

She waited in silence, her body trembling. Power stretched out from her fingers, from the sharp turns of her shoulders, from the ends of her hair.

Had it been enough?

She drew a few shallow breaths in the ringing silence, then dared to open her eyes.

A blade hovered before her face. Two more, pointing at each of her eyes. Hundreds. Thousands, all held in place by her silent command. They filled the pit, quivering, denied their kill. The air hummed metallic.

Rielle let out an incredulous, tearful breath.

Then she let her arms fall.

The swords dropped flat to the ground, forming a perfect circle around the spot of earth where Rielle knelt with the child. Their fall shook the ground. Their blades pointed away from her; she sat at the center of a scorched metal sun.

Slowly, the world returned to her. She blinked, wiped her eyes clean. A growing surge of voices made her look up.

The people of Celdaria were on their feet. They were screaming her name—a chant, a prayer.

Rielle! Rielle! Rielle!

She raised her face to the sky and showed them her smile.

24

Eliana

“Something is wrong with Lord Arkelion. He took me into his bed, ordered me to hurt him as he lay naked before me. I did so happily, but his wounds closed almost at once. He roared and writhed and wept. He is ill, perhaps mad. I believe all the Emperor’s men to be mad. Every single one.”

—Encoded message written by Princess Navana Amaruk of Astavar, delivered to the Red Crown underground

Eliana scrambled upright, gasping, her clothes clinging to her sweat-drenched skin. She had been lying facedown on a mud-crusted blanket. Her hands slipped as she struggled to push herself to a sitting position.

“Remy.” She looked wildly about, saw only a black forest lit by a wedge of moon. “Remy!”

“Hush.” A gentle hand smoothed the hair back from her forehead. “He’s safe, and so are you.”

Eliana recognized the voice. “Navi?”

The girl smiled down at her, her gaze worried but kind. “I’m here. You’re all right.”

Dark clouds shifted meanly across Eliana’s vision. She gripped Navi’s hand. “Tell me.”

“We’re three days’ ride from Rinthos. You’ve been drifting in and out for hours. A fever, Simon thinks. Him, Remy, you, and me—we’re all alive and safe. Hob is with us as well.”

“Hob.” Memories of the Empire outpost came rushing back to her: Smoke drifting up from the ground. Running toward the waiting lines of adatrox, two whining bombardiers in her hands.

Only then did Eliana register the searing pain on her back. She winced, and Navi hissed in sympathy.

“Simon and I did the best we could,” Navi said, “but the blast caught the entire back of your body. Please, lie down on your stomach.”

Eliana obeyed, her vision tilting. The wounds must indeed have been terrible. She’d never suffered from such severe pain hours after an injury.

“The compound,” she bit out. “Did they survive? Patrik and…?” She could not make herself say Linnet’s name.

Navi sat beside her. “I believe most of the refugees got away, yes. Patrik stayed to help evacuate them to a new site. Hob has come with us to meet a contact in Rinthos who can help with supplies for the survivors. The smoke ruined much of their food. But, Eliana, you saved them. What adatrox you didn’t destroy, Simon picked off easily. What you did… I’ve never seen anything like that.”

Eliana lay very still, her cheek pressed to the blanket. Her vision was beginning to settle in the darkness. Remy lay nearby, curled up at the base of a tree. Even as he slept, his brow creased with worry. Beside him sat Simon, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed. In sleep, he looked almost peaceful. The silver ribbons of his scars shivered like ghosts in the shifting moonlight.

Then Eliana heard footsteps in the woods and tensed.

“It’s only Hob,” Navi whispered. “He’s on watch. Please, try to rest.”

“That’s unlikely. Where are my knives?” Then she remembered Lord Morbrae confiscating them and groaned. “They’re gone, aren’t they?”

“Actually, Simon retrieved them from the outpost. Now Remy has them. He won’t let any of us touch them.”

Eliana let out a tired, relieved laugh. “And now…we go to Rinthos.”

“Yes. There, we’ll be able to find better medicine for your back than what Hob helped us scrape together.” She paused. “I’m sorry to say I think you’ll be scarred permanently from it. But you will live.”

Eliana closed her eyes. Exhausted tears slid down her cheeks.

“Oh, Eliana.” Navi cupped her face with one soft hand. “How can I help you? I feel useless.”